


The Werewolf of Srabov

by NickelModelTales



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Horror, Hypnotism, Magic, Mystery, Oral Sex, Police, Porn With Plot, Sexual Slavery, Shameless Smut, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: Hands-down, this is the weirdest erotic hypnosis horror story that you will read all year.  When a vicious werewolf begins hunting the townsfolk of a modern-day Transylvanian village, a beautiful young police officer decides to enlist the help of a male witch to hypnotize and capture the beast.
Kudos: 14





	1. There is Evil Magic in this Part of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween 2020!

**_Srabov, Romania_ **

**_October 1995_ **

“Oh, my Lord…!” Chief Moraru muttered in worry.

Deputy Elena Păcuraru could see the fear etched on her boss’s face. Moraru was an old, seasoned cop, a man who had once served in the big city. He’d seen more than his share of horrific crimes. But now… Watching the chief inspect the body gave Elena the chills. This was something he’d never seen before.

The two police officers were kneeling by the side of the road, just a small, unmarked dirt road outside the village of Srabov. The thick Romanian forests were all about them. They would have driven right past the body if there hadn’t been such a swarm of flies nibbling away at the corpse. Dried blood, clumps of mangled flesh, and snapped bones were scattered everywhere.

Elena fought the nausea welling up inside of her. “Is it… Is this… Was this a person?” she asked, dreading the answer.

Chief Moreau shot her a dark glance. “That, over there, is a human skull, smashed in. And those rib bones are human-sized. The victim was a person, alright. Probably Bela Mureșanu too, given the height and mass of the body.” His face twitched in disgust. “Oh, Jesus. Look there. See those boots?”

Peering under the thick ferns, Elena saw two heavy leather boots lying on the ground, both slashed repeatedly. The original owner’s feet were still within them

“This was Bela, alright,” Chief Moraru said heavily, rising to his feet.

Bela Mureșanu had been the town butcher. It must have come as a horrible shock to man in the moment when he realized that he was about to die as he’d lived.

“What could have done this to a human being?” asked Elena in horror. “A bear?”

The chief ran a hand over his face. “This wasn’t a bear.”

*** *** *** ***

The paperwork was a grim challenge. Elena studied the death report over her typewriter. What could she put in for “PROBABLE CAUSE OF DEATH”?

The young woman sighed. She was only twenty-one, just a year out of the academy. Being assigned to the Srabov Police force had seemed like a stroke of good luck, at the time. A tiny Romanian town, where a woman officer, like herself, could learn the mechanics of serious police work seemed ideal for the beginning of her career. After all, she and Chief Moreau were the only two cops in town. A good place to learn, no?

But this area of Romania, far from her homeland… well, it was proving to be much more challenging than Elena anticipated.

Deputy Elena Păcuraru was a black-haired beauty, thin and willowy in shape. Her large, brown eyes were captivating to the young men who foolishly gazed into them, a trait all the women in her family shared. But Elena had a more dazzling-than-usual smile, light skin, and an almost impish face, all which combined to make her uniquely gorgeous. Even in her regulation police uniform and minimal makeup, she was a stunner.

The young officer sat at her desk in the Srabov Police Station, a little two-room building off Ghumbav St. She shifted in her little chair, failing to notice Andrei the part-time Janitor admiring her legs and tush. Elena’s frame was compact, but somehow made her drab uniform look alluring. Elena was a competitive runner, competing in the Bucharest Marathon every year since she’d turned sixteen. This had given her long, powerful legs, a tight waist, and a firm, muscular bottom. Men longed to date her, if only to feel that bottom for themselves.

The Death Form on the typewriter stared at Elena. She glared back at the paper, wishing she could be doing anything else.

Chief Moraru entered the office, causing Andrei to look as busy as possible. The chief was a heavyset man, with an enormous stomach, but muscle-packed arms and legs. His bald head shone in the electric lights, which made his dark handlebar moustache look even more imposing somehow. Elena always thought her boss resembled a bull in human form.

“Hey Chief,” the young woman chirped. “Er, about Probable Cause of Death…?”

Chief Moraru scowled. “Come with me,” he said, in lieu of answering her question.

“Yeah, but-“

“Now, Officer Păcuraru!” barked the chief. He gestured impatiently.

Swallowing her surprise, Elena hopped to her feet. The chief led her across the office, and into the conference room. Andrei watched her until the door was closed, then dejectedly went back to mopping the waiting area.

*** *** *** ***

Elena blinked when she set foot inside the conference room. There, on the other side of the conference table, was Mayor Grigorcea, an old-timer who had been in office for decades. The mayor was withered yet spry, always fingering a long, wooden cane with a silver tip. His thick spectacles glinted in the electric light, making his dark suit seem even blacker than usual.

The mayor did not rise as Elena and Chief Moraru entered and shut the door behind them. “Well?” the old man demanded.

“Mihai’s still looking at the body,” Chief Moraru said darkly. “There wasn’t much left to inspect, you know.”

Mayor Grigorcea eyed Elena. “And you and our new lady cop here are the only other two people who know about this?”

Moraru nodded. “We only found Bela this morning.”

“Hmmgh,” grunted the mayor. “Well, both of you, you’re under orders to keep this quiet. Bela’s wife hasn’t blabbed anything to my wife yet, which means she thinks he still might be alive. Don’t want a panic.”

“Mr. Mayor…” Chief Moraru said, folding his arms, “sooner or later, people are gonna know that Bela’s missing. You can’t keep this under wraps forever.”

“Not forever,” scoffed Grigorcea. “Just… past the Holiday.”

Elena arched one eyebrow. The town of Srabov was located in what the rest of the world thought of as Transylvania. Yes, **_that Transylvania_** , that same mythical land that had sparked Bram Stoker’s imagination, long ago. Castle Bran, known in the tourist books as “Dracula’s Castle,” was only a few kilometers outside of Srabov’s city limits.

Now of course, there really was old magic in Transylvania. Locals knew that spirits haunted the woods, and strange, distant animal sounds could be heard in the dead of night. Every local was highly superstitious and people kept charms in their pockets or hung around their necks after sundown. Elena herself was spooked if she ever found herself near the ancient graveyard.

But to the outside world, Transylvania was the stuff of Hollywood legend. Decades of Dracula movies had inspired a wacky tourist industry, and every late October, Srabov found itself besieged by tens of thousands of out-of-towners, all hoping to take the walking tour of “Dracula’s Castle.” Truckloads of plastic vampire teeth, “ _I Vant To Suck Your Blooood_ ” tee shirts, and coffee mugs with little bat wings were sold by the local merchants. Halloween had become an extremely profitable time of year for the otherwise sleepy town.

“Vickor,” Chief Moraru scowled at Mayor Grigorcea, “if poor Bela was murdered, we can’t keep this covered up for the rest of the month! That ain’t right.”

The mayor held up a withered hand. “Covered up?” he retorted. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. No-one’s saying to cover up anything.”

Moraru was about to protest when the conference room door opened. A short man stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him.

“Well, Mihai?” Mayor Grigorcea said in greeting.

Elena immediately saw that Mihai, Srabov’s mortician, was upset. The little man, easily in his sixties, trembled a bit as he fingered the clipboard in his hands. It was hard to say what was grayer; Mihai’s drab suit, or his slack expression. The man always had bad posture. Today, his stance was positively wilted.

“Well?” Grigorcea repeated.

Mihai looked between the two other men in the room, ignoring Elena. “Bela was killed by a werewolf,” he said softly.

Elena’s thin eyebrows shot off her forehead. “A **_werewolf?_** ” she echoed.

The young officer knew about the ghosts and devils that lurked about Srabov’s forests. But a werewolf was a new one for her.

Chief Moraru turned away. “Oh my God,” he said heavily, and sat in a chair. He put his face in his hands.

Mayor Grigorcea’s mouth tightened. “You’re sure, Mihai?” he asked.

The little man nodded quickly. “The remains of the body were little more than ribbons. Not even the fiercest Romanian mountain lions would leave that little of the corpse behind. Plus, down in the cellar, we have… some old magic powders that can detect the presence of the Cursed Ones.” He swallowed. “There’s no doubt.”

Elena looked between the chief, the mayor, and the mortician. “Wait,” she insisted, “are you all sure? I mean… A werewolf seems really unlikely in this day and age…”

The mayor shot her a nasty glance. “You’re young,” he snapped. “You don’t remember the Old Days. And you didn’t hear the warnings our parents gave us about the horrors that happened, generations ago.” Grigorcea actually shivered. “There is evil magic in this part of the world, young lady. Do not mock what you don’t understand.”

“We’ll have to deploy with silver bullets and holy water,” Chief Moraru told Elena, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s some old chants I can teach you, for protection.” He paused. “A werewolf, after all this time. Jesus.”

“What about the Holiday?” Mihai asked, looking forlorn. “Mr. Mayor, you can’t have tourists come to Srabov now, not when there’s an Unholy on the loose.”

“We can’t cancel Halloween!” the mayor almost choked. “All the hotels are booked, the international flights sold! If we canceled now, people would never trust us again. It would kill the Holiday forever.”

“Better to kill the Holiday than to kill the tourists,” Elena ventured.

“Then you two had better find this wolfman and kill him,” scowled Mayor Grigorcea, pointing a bony finger at his two police officers. “And fast.” He absently scratched his chin. “And maybe if you do, we can stuff and mount the dead wolf body to display him at the train station. That might juice tourist sales for next year.”

“How are we going to find a werewolf?” Elena asked incredulously.

“There are ways,” Chief Moraru replied thoughtfully. “Old World methods.”

“Right,” agreed Mayor Grigorcea. “Why not see Augula? She shouldn’t be hard to find.”

At the mention of the name Augula, Mihai looked paler than usual.

“That old witch?” muttered Chief Moraru. “She won’t be cheap, Viktor.”

“But she gets results,” the mayor countered. “At least, she did, once. Back in the day.”

Chief Moraru nodded, and rose to his feet. “Very well, as you say. We’ll look immediately.”

“Good,” rumbled Grigorcea. He used his hardest stare. “Work fast, chief. The Holiday starts soon.”

*** *** *** ***

The northern road out of town was badly paved, and the Srabov squad car bounced between the potholes. Elena, sitting in the passenger seat, winced.

But Chief Moraru didn’t seem to notice. He drove on, glaring through the windshield, a permanent scowl etched in his face.

“So… uh… chief?” the beautiful young deputy ventured. “You fully buy this werewolf stuff?”

The older man didn’t answer right away. “When I was a little tyke,” he finally grumbled, “we were terrorized by one of the Cursed Ones. Yes, a werewolf. A real nasty one, absolute evil. Two of my parent’s neighbors were ripped to pieces… and then my uncle.” He sighed heavily. “Those were dark times.”

“I saw the thing,” Moraru added. “And I can still see it, when I close my eyes. Hideous, matted hair, huge fangs, burning red eyes. Oh Jesus, I’ve never been so scared in my life. It charged through town, right before the fountain in Prejmer Square, before they shot and killed it.”

“ ** _Prejmer Square?_** ” Elena echoed in amazement. “Where they have the Easter festival every year?”

“Yeah,” answered Moraru.

Her head spinning, Elena pondered this information.

“I thought,” she said delicately, “that werewolves can only appear during a full moon? There wasn’t a full moon when poor Bela was killed.”

Chief Moraru shifted in his seat. “Well, no-one really knows. The legends say that under a full moon, a man with The Curse loses his mind and becomes the Beast. But other nights, he can choose to be the Wolf, and hunts with his wits intact. The creature that I saw seemed to have the intelligence of a man, I’ll tell you that.”

Elena didn’t know what to think. “You sure they killed it?” she asked.

“Silver bullet to the heart,” Moraru replied, as if there was nothing more to say.

The young deputy frowned, studying the Romanian forest as it rolled by her window. “How are we gonna find this Augula?” she asked. “You have an address…?”

“Augula’s a gypsy,” replied Moraru, turning off the main road. “So we’ll have to ask around.”

*** *** *** ***

The Romani people, derogatively known as “Gypsies” throughout Europe, were a long-suffering nomadic people. The tribes who had settled in Romania had been persecuted by the Germans during World War II, and then by the Communists after. Only once had the Warsaw Pact had crumbled and Romania turned to democratic reform had the Romani been left alone. In Srabov’s providence, they occupied a small village to the north, named Orăşel Town. Moraru and Elena rarely went there.

The locals shrank back as Moraru pulled up before the general store. “Hey!” the police chief bellowed out his window, “who knows where I can find Augula these days?”

No-one relied, or even made eye contact.

“Well, shit,” grumbled the chief. He spotted a very young man conspicuously trying to mosey away from the squad car. “C’mon.”

With impressive speed, the lumbering Moraru leapt from his vehicle and caught up with the ambling youth. Elena had to scurry to keep up.

“Hey there, Vano,” Moraru grinned, looming over the younger man. “Fancy meetin’ you out and about.”

“Hey, chief,” mumbled Vano, doing his best to shrink into his shoes. He was a teenager, barely older than seventeen, and skinny as a shaft of wheat. For an instant, the boy’s eyes flickered over Elena’s trim figure, admiring her beauty.

“Now, Vano, I know you’re keeping yourself out of trouble,” Moreau lectured threateningly. “Right? So I also know you’re happy to help your favorite police officers, me ‘n Deputy Păcuraru here. **_Right?_** ”

“Sure, sure,” Vano allowed. He attempted a limp smile.

“Listen,” said Moraru, leaning in more, “we’re lookin’ for Augula. You happen to know where she parks her wagon, eh?”

Vano blinked, his face afraid. “Augula? No. You guys are looking for a witch?”

“Never you mind,” Moraru growled.

“Well, why not try the new guy?” the teen suggested.

Chief Moraru and Elena blinked. “New guy?” Moraru repeated.

“Yeah, Florin Rusu,” nodded Vano. “Just moved into that old manor house, the big one up on Ȋnfricoşăror Hill.” The teen spoke eagerly. “I heard he moved here from up north. He must be rich.”

“Yeah?” Moraru asked incredulously. “Then why did he buy that old broken-down dump?”

“He’s gonna fix it up, he told me,” Vano related. “Wants to make it a tourist hotel, for next year’s Holiday. He’s gonna hire me to work the grounds.” In a whisper, he added, “That’s how I know Rusu’s a witch!”

“Uh-huh,” frowned Chief Moraru.

“I seen him do magic!” Vano insisted. “He sold a growth potion to my friend Luca. I want one, too!”

“Well, I want Augula,” insisted Moraru.

“Sorry,” Vano replied. He shrugged. “Don’t know where she is.”

There was a tense moment as the teenager wilted under Moraru’s fierce glare… but offered nothing further.

“Alright, get outta here,” rumbled Chief Moraru. “Stay out of trouble.”

Vano scampered off.

“Whadda we do, chief?” Elena wanted to know.

The heavyset officer exhaled, eyeing the other locals. They were slinking away as nonchalantly as they could.

But there were a small gaggle of children playing across the street. “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Elena said with a grin. She returned to the squad car, rummaging about in the glove compartment for a moment. When she reemerged, she was holding a small bag of lollipops.

“See?” Elena said to Moraru’s sour expression. “I told you these lollys would come in handy someday.”

“Hmmgh,” was the chief’s opinion.

“Its Halloween, boss,” Elena replied tartly. “A little trick-or-treat could be just what the doctor ordered.”

*** *** *** ***

One of the children had heard about “Old Lady Augula.” Between slurps on her lollipop, the little girl explained, “My momma’s a Laundry Lady, ‘n she does laundry fer Augula sometimes.”

“She’ll turn your momma into a toad!” a jealous little boy declared.

“No, she won’t!” the girl flung back.

“Here, kid,” Elena said, quickly giving the boy a lolly. She smiled brightly at the little girl. “Go on, sweetie. Where is Augula now?”

The girl pointed to a side road. “She lives in a wagon, down by the river now. She likes the river.”

“See, Chief?” Elena grinned up at Moraru, who hadn’t stopped scowling. “Thanks, kid.” She handed out the rest of the candy to the children’s eager little hands.

“Let’s get going,” frowned the chief, already digging his car keys from his pocket.

“You been down that road lately?” Elena asked, craning her neck in the direction the little girl had pointed.

“Not in a while,” admitted Moraru. “Still, if anyone can help us catch a werewolf, its Augula. Let’s get goin’.”

*** *** *** ***


	2. Is Your Family Old Romanian?

The country road ended in a harvested wheatfield, with the earth barren and naked. Horrid-looking scarecrows were still standing guard over the field, their painted faces twisted and evil.

“There,” Elena said, pointing. “That’s Augula’s wagon?”

To the east, two hundred meters away, the police officers could see a tall, dead oak, clawing at the gray sky. A shallow river babbled nearby, and in the shadow of the tree, there was a large covered wagon. Two horses were nearby, lazily grazing on the brown grass.

Moraru drove over the field, parking just before the wagon. He and Elena got out, already shivering in the nippy October air. The wagon was a cottage on wheels, with the only door placed at the rear. Moraru knocked on the door as loudly as he could.

“What’s all this, eh?!?” screeched a harsh voice over Elena’s shoulder.

The deputy and the chief jumped in fright. There, leaning heavily on a gnarled walking-stick, was the oldest woman that Elena had ever seen. She was short and bent, wobbling a little as she stood. The woman’s wrinkled face was like ancient leather, cracked and beaten by many years under the sun. Two black eyes peered at the police officers with an angry regard. The woman was dressed in little more than rags, which covered everything but her face and withered hands.

“Jesus, Augula,” wheezed Chief Moraru, clutching his chest. “How’d you sneak up on us like that?”

The old woman ignored the question. “Who’s this?” she demanded, jabbing her walking-stick at Elena.

“Deputy Elena Păcuraru, ma’am,” Elena said stiffly. “We’d like to ask you some questions?”

“They got lady deputies these days, eh?” Augula grunted. “Well, I never.”

“Augula, we’ve gotta talk,” Chief Moraru said firmly. “We’ve got a werewolf on the prowl.”

The old woman’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “Eh. That’s too bad.”

“Can you give us something to help?” the chief asked impatiently. “This beast could maul you down, too, you know.”

Augula waved a contemptuous hand. “Eh, I’m too old and stringy,” she snorted. “Not worth the bite.”

“Augula!” Moraru protested.

“Fine,” the old woman sneered, rolling her eyes. She thrust a crooked finger at the cop. “But I don’t do nothin’ for free, copper. Everything has a price. Eh.”

“Okay,” allowed Chief Moraru, folding his arms. “We can work something out.”

“Eh,” Augula nodded, then hobbled toward her wagon. The door swung open for her, completely on its own. And then a small set of stairs unfolded, as if guided by invisible hands. Elena stared.

“Come in, come in, eh,” the old woman grunted, climbing the stairs. “But touch nothin’! Nothin’ at all!”

She hobbled into the wagon, then Chief Moraru followed, and then Elena followed him. The door creaked shut behind her. The interior of the wagon was pitch black.

“Eh, here, here,” Augula’s scratchy voice muttered, and there was the sound of a match being struck. A soft, orange glow lit the air.

Elena blinked. The wagon was extremely cluttered, but clean and tidy. The walls were lined with tight wooden shelves, packed with moldy books, bottles, jars, talismans, scrolls, figurines, one yellowing skull, and a host of other objects that Elena couldn’t hope to identify. Every container made from glass contained something within, including bubbling green liquids, an oversized dead frog, dull gemstones which glinted in the lamplight, a collection of small bones, a swarm of constantly crawling beetles, and a collection of eyeballs of all colors. The eyeballs swiveled to follow Elena wherever she stood. There was a tiny cot and stove in the far corner.

“What is…?” Elena exclaimed, fascinated by a little brass machine that was spinning endlessly on the nearest shelf. She extended one curious finger forward.

“Don’t touch nothin’!” Augula shrieked, stamping one angry foot. “Nothin’! Don’t even look at nothin’!”

“Okay, werewolves,” said Chief Moraru. The big man had to stoop to fit inside the cramped wagon. “What can you sell us to help us catch werewolves?”

“I can put a charm on silver bullets, eh,” Augula offered, yanking a heavy book from another shelf. “That would be cheap, but you gotta front the cost of the silver.”

“Charmed silver bullets I already got,” Moraru said crossly. “I need somethin’ to find this Unholy. What do ya got for detection?”

Elena found herself fascinated by a small gray orb, kept under a dusty glass dome. The orb was just floating in the air, pulsing with some strange energy. At first, it appeared to be drab and colorless… but upon closer inspection, Elena found it had some indescribable presence, like it was drawing her toward it. She wondered what the thing was.

“Detection, eh,” muttered Augula, flipping through her book. “Very hard to detect a werewolf. That’s an Unholy who doesn’t want to be found. And most times, the Cursed One doesn’t even know they’re a monster, you know. They have no memory of what they did as the Beast.”

“You’ve gotta have something,” urged Moraru.

Maybe it was Elena’s imagination, but was the little orb within the glass case was changing colors, waxing between dark brown and dark gray? If so, the change was subtle… but unusual.

Chief Moraru was looming over Augula, skimming the book with her. “Hey, what about that?” he asked, pointing to the page. “ _Byanthan? The Wolf-bringer?_ ”

“No, no, you don’t want that,” grumbled Augula. “Byanthan is an elixir that is concentrated moonshine. If you release it, it forces a person under The Curse to revert to their werewolf form. Eh. Then you’ve got a snarling monster rushing at you. Who wants that?”

Elena was half-listening. The little orb was going bigger… or was it? She couldn’t tell. It was growing hard to think.

“Eh!” Augula said sharply. She thrust her book into Chief Moraru’s surprised hands, then rudely shoved Elena backwards. “Don’t look at that!”

“Hey!” Elena spluttered. “What the-“

“Don’t look at this, girl,” Augula admonished, throwing an old rag over the glass dome. “It’s a vampire’s eyeball. It’ll hypnotize you and then you’ll be dumb and useless. Eh.”

“Oh,” Elena said. Embarrassed, she cast her gaze to the floor.

The old woman snatched her book back from Chief Moraru, and cracked it open once more. “Eh!” she exclaimed. “I’m an idiot. Eh.” She flipped pages furiously. “What you… need… is… Ah, here! _Aconitana_. Wolfwine.”

Augula showed the current page to Moraru and Elena. There, in an old nineteenth-century inkblot, was a sketch of a long reeded plant, with short, pointed leaves on the top. Elena was reminded of a swamp weed she’d once encountered on a childhood camping trip. That plant had stunk pretty badly.

“Wolfwine…?” Chief Moraru echoed.

“A rare herb, eh,” smiled Augula. Her toothless smile was rather gruesome. “Grows in these parts, if you know where to look. It’s a magical plant. And if you crush the flowered part, here…” She pointed to the drawing’s leaves. “…its pollen spreads in the air.”

“So?” frowned Moraru.

“The pollen’s scent is undetectable to mortals, but is **_absolutely irresistible_** to the Cursed Ones,” promised Augula, admiring the inkblot. “Eh. Just a little of this in the air, and every werewolf for miles will come running. Careful, though. The pollen drives them insane, so they become extra vicious. But stupider.”

“Ah!” the chief said, pleased. “Where can we find-“

Augula snapped the book shut. “And that information, dearie, will cost you. Still interested?”

Chief Moraru’s face fell. “How much?” he asked in a flat, dull voice.

“Two hundred thousand Leus,” said Augula proudly.

Moraru’s and Elena’s eyes popped. “ ** _Two hundred thousand…?_** ” echoed the chief.

“…and,” Augula added, waggling a finger in the air, “I want complete legal immunity in Srabov. Eh. I never want to be arrested, no matter what.”

“Oh, come on!” recoiled Chief Moraru. “Immunity?” He gestured helplessly in the air. “I… I… I can’t even grant that!”

“You’re a clever boy,” smirked the witch. “You’d figure it out.”

“We might be able to get you thirty thousand,” snarled Moraru. “But… come on! Our police budget isn’t even near two hundred thou!”

“Well, you’ve got a problem, then, dearie,” Augula huffed, shoving the book back onto her shelf. “Eh. I don’t haggle. Two hundred thousand and immunity. Or nothing.”

The stooping police chief gnashed his teeth.

“Well?” Augula said. “Eh? What’s it gonna be?”

“Let’s get outta here,” Moraru rumbled to Elena.

*** *** *** ***

When the two police officers exited the wagon, the skies were dark and angry. A great storm was rolling in from the east, and one could sense the nervous electricity in the air.

The mood of the weather, however, was nothing compared to Chief Moraru’s temper. “That miserable old bitch,” he hissed as he was Elena climbed back into their squad car. “What a fuckin’ hag! Tryin’ to extort us, all when there’s innocent lives at stake…!”

“Chief,” urged Elena.

“What?!?”

“There’s another witch in town,” the beautiful young cop pointed out. “That young guy your friend Vano mentioned, remember? Why don’t we try him?”

Moraru angrily drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, eyeing the dark clouds overhead.

“Let’s give it a go, boss,” Elena said. “There’s still an hour or so in the day. Whadda we got to lose?”

“Fine,” frowned the chief. He turned the key in the ignition.

*** *** *** ***

No-one in Srabov could remember how old the house on Ȋnfricoşăror Hill actually was. The old mansion was at least a century old, built in the classic Victorian style, with tall chimneys, pointed tile roofs, and gloomy windows that gazed down at the land in all directions. Ugly gargoyles jutted out from the roof’s corners. The house had once been painted a cheerful white, but that was decades ago. Now, after years of neglect and bad luck, it had fallen into some disrepair. The mansion was now a dull brown color, with ugly smears of black and gray dripping down the exterior walls. Only a few of the house’s inside lights were on.

Just as Chief Moraru drove through the front gates, a bolt of lightning tore through the sky. For an instant, the great house was washed in harsh, white light. Thunder roared. Elena jumped.

“Jesus,” Elena panted, willing her heart rate to slow, “I’d forgotten how freaky this place is.”

“They tried to tear it down once, before you were born,” the chief remarked. “Wasn’t worth the cost.”

“And this Florin Rusu thinks he can restore it as an inn?” Elena said incredulously. “He must be really optimistic. Or deluded.”

“He’s rich,” Moraru informed her dryly. “Made millions on that new Internet thing, whatever it is. Apparently, he’s now bored and looking for projects to fill his time.” He put the squad car in Park. “Must be a nice problem to have.”

The two police officers stepped out of the vehicle, already feeling tiny droplets of rain. As they hurried up the creaking stairs, Elena glanced about. The mansion’s lawns were so badly overgrown, it was hard to discern where the garden or the hedges had been originally planted.

Chief Moraru reached to press the doorbell, only to pause. “Listen,” the older man said in a low voice. “You don’t have any experience with witches, do you?”

Elena shook her head.

“Okay,” said the chief. “If it comes up in conversation… best not to mention anything about Augula.”

“No?” Elena asked, surprised.

“Witches can be paranoid,” muttered Moraru. “And very suspicious of one another. I don’t know this Rusu guy, but we could really piss him off if we discuss the old woman. Get me?”

“…not really,” admitted Elena.

“Just follow my lead,” grunted Moraru. He pushed the doorbell.

Nothing happened.

“Great,” sighed Chief Moraru. He rose a fist to pound on the hard wood.

And then, as if waiting for that moment, the door swung open.

Moraru and Elena found themselves starting at a young man, perhaps in his late twenties. The fellow was thin with a moderate build, with a head of full, thick hair, and one diamond stud earring in his left earlobe. He was quite handsome, although his face was a little lean for Elena’s tastes. The man wore American blue jeans, a faded tee shirt, and worn moccasins. He peered at his guests in surprise.

“Uh, afternoon, officers,” he said. “I’m Florin Rusu. Businessman and entrepreneur.” He grinned. “Been meaning to come into town and introduce myself.”

“A pleasure,” Chief Moraru said gruffly.

The three exchanged a quick round of handshakes. Elena frowned a little when Rusu had the nerve to stare openly at her chest and hips. The young man appreciated her figure.

Another crash of thunder and lightning exploded overhead. The rain began to fall.

“Look, would you officers like to come inside?” Rusu asked, gesturing. “I’m not really moved in yet, but I can offer you hot tea…”

The two cops entered. Rusu led them through a tall foyer into what had to be the house’s living room. The ceilings here were very high. An enormous fireplace, big enough to Elena to step into, was cradling a mighty fire, merrily popping and cracking away. There were couches and end tables, but all the furniture were draped under plain, white sheets. Many wooden crates were pushed up against the walls, all labeled in a language Elena couldn’t read.

“The house is a wreck,” Rusu said apologetically. “But I’m hopeful that in a month or so, I can get it back to its former glory. You guys know any good carpenters in the village?” he added hopefully.

“Mr. Rusu,” Chief Moraru said formerly, “we have a delicate and serious matter to discuss with you.”

“Oh,” their host said, his smile going limp. “Uh, is that about the iron cage in the back lawn? Because I swear, I’m not breeding animals or anything-“

“Mr. Rusu,” the chief interrupted. “This ain’t about your cage.” He took a deep breath. “Is your family Old Romanian?”

 _Is your family Old Romanian?_ was the traditional way of asking, _Do you believe in magic?_

The younger man glanced between the two police officers. Perhaps it was Elena’s imagination, but he appeared to be thinking quickly.

“Well… yeah,” he said in a low, hesitant voice. “I’m Old Romanian.”

“Word in Gypsy Town is that you practice some magic,” said Moraru. He held up both hands before Rusu could object. “Now, I’m not here to bust your chops. In fact, we need your help.”

“My help? Oh,” Rusu said, caught off-guard.

He gestured to the couches. “Uh, you guys want to sit down?”

*** *** *** ***

As a heavy rain began pounding the windows, Chief Moraru, Elena, and Rusu pulled sheets off the couches, and then sat close together. Chief Moraru and Elena took one couch, and sat upright, as protocol demanded. Rusu slouched on the opposite couch.

In a solemn tone, Moraru told Rusu about the werewolf attack. “We’ve got to find and kill this beast,” he said, his worry showing. “A lot of innocent people are at risk here.”

“Holy cow,” Rusu exclaimed, gazing in the fire. “A werewolf! Damn. I’ve read about them, of course, but I never thought… I mean, this is the twentieth century!” He seemed amazed.

“You’re a witch, right?” Chief Moraru asked, leaning forward.

“A beginner,” said Rusu, squirming a little. “I dabble, really. Just… simple stuff. I was hoping to use magic to paint the house, actually,” he admitted.

“Sir, have you ever heard of _Aconitana_?” Elena asked politely.

Rusu looked blank.

“Wolfwine,” supplied Chief Moraru. “We’ve been told it grows in these parts. We just need some help finding-”

“Oh, Wolfwine!” exclaimed Rusu, snapping his fingers. “Yeah. Yeah! Yeah, one sec…”

Without another word, the young man jumped up and darted out of the room. The police officers heard him tear up a creaking stairway.

“He seems helpful,” Elena muttered to her boss.

“Yeah, thank Christ for that,” sighed Moraru, deflating a little. He rubbed his forehead. “You have any idea when the next full moon is?”

“Not for a while,” admitted Elena. “But probably near or on Halloween.”

The chief winced as if he’d been poked by a sharp stick. “Goddamnit,” he groaned. “If this guy can’t help us, I don’t know-“

“Here!” Rusu declared, bounding back into the room. In his hands, he had a thick book, perhaps a copy of the same book that Augula possessed. The young man flopped back onto his couch, and began turning pages.

“Do all you witches use the same textbook?” Elena asked, amused.

“…huh?” Rusu asked, distracted. “Oh, no. Well, I don’t think so. I found this book in the basement of an old Albanian pawnshop, where… Ah ha!”

He handed the opened book to the two police officers. Moraru and Elena inspected the pages with interest.

There, before them, was another inkblot of the elusive _Aconitana_ plant. There was also a diagram, labeling all parts of the weed, inside and out. But the language was not one the police officers could read.

“Here, allow me,” offered Rusu taking the book back. “The text’s written in French. There were a lot of witches in France once, I guess. Let’s see…” He cleared his throat. “ _Aconitana. Also known as Wolfwine, Wolf’s Nector, Wolf-honey, The Wine of Wolves, The Beast’s Seduction. Discovered 1472. Aconitana is a rare, magical plant with an otherworldly tie to lupinotuum pectinem, popularly known as the ‘werewolf.’_ Interesting! _Occurring in few natural habitats, Aconitana was first used by warlocks as a medical salve, primarily because of its potent effects to soothe human tissue. Several Eastern European kings were fond of ground Aconitana in their tea, including King Hactoen II of-_ “

“Can we just read the part about werewolves?” Elena asked tightly.

“Oh, right,” said Rusu, skimming ahead. “Right… Hmm. Ah, here. _Aconitana also has a mythical and little-understood connection to many subspecies of werewolf, especially the Gray Werewolf, the Great Fire-Red Werewolf, the Hellhound, the Hungarian Wolf, and the Wolfman of Lore._ ”

“There are multiple kinds of werewolves?” Elena asked, surprised.

“Oh, absolutely,” her host replied. “The Fire-Reds, those are the most horrible of all. Their werewolfism is so strong, it turns them into homicidal lunatics even in their human form. Anyway…”

He returned to the book, and resumed reading aloud: “ _When ground into a fine powder, Aconitana leaves exude a potent scent, one which irresistibly attracts werewolves from up to fifty miles away._ Wow, that’s cool! _The effect on the werewolf is so strong, the beast cannot resist the lure of the plant. However, a werewolf who has smelled Aconitana dust is especially vicious, and cannot be subdued, short of death._ ”

“That’s the idea,” nodded Chief Moraru. “How do we find the plant?”

“Hmm…” Rusu read ahead. “Ah, it says here: _To find wild Aconitana, one must use a talisman, one enchanted with a Spell of Aconita Reveal. When the seeker has such a talisman on their body, they will be instinctively led to the nearest patch of Aconitana, assuming such a patch exists._ ”

“Talisman?” Elena groaned, momentarily forgetting her professional demeanor. “Aw, great. I’m guessing we don’t have one of those?”

There was a depressed silence. Chief Moraru stared into the fire.

“Just, ah, out of curiosity,” Rusu said, “what would you guys do if you had some Wolfwine?”

“Lure the werewolf into an open area,” shrugged Moraru. “Then shoot it.”

“That’s dangerous,” pointed out Rusu. “Werewolves are fast and cunning. Superb hunters. Once they see you, there’s not a lot you can do to defend yourself.”

“Son,” Chief Moraru said heavily, “I am charged with keeping the town of Srabov safe. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Elena absently rubbed her cheek, thinking. There had to be a way to enlist Rusu’s help! Her intuition told her that the young man could be tempted. But how?

“Tell me, Mr. Rusu,” she said plainly. “Why did you become a witch?”

On the couch beside her, Elena felt Chief Moraru tense, just a little. She could feel his silent admonition: _What are you doing? I told you to follow my lead!_

But Rusu didn’t seem to mind the question. If anything, he was charmed by Elena’s beauty and gentle smile.

“Oh,” the young man grinned in an _aw-shucks_ sort of way, “I’m interested in everything, really. In college, I joined a coven because, well, it seemed cool. That, and the girl I wanted to date was the head witch.” He leaned back. “Magic is really, really cool. Take that from an ex-Internet technology guy.”

“You could be of a lot of help to us,” Elena coaxed. “I mean, if you helped us defeat the werewolf, why… you’d be a Srabov hero!”

“You don’t say,” grinned Rusu.

“Would it be hard to find one of those… what were they? …talismans with the Spell of Aconita Reveal?”

“Hmmgh,” mused Rusu, thinking. “You know what?” He dove back into his book, flipping through the end sections. “…maybe… Wait a minute, wait a minute… …just a tic… …uh-huh… Oh, shit! Guess what?”

He tapped the page. “ _Talisman, Spell of Aconita Reveal. Page 182._ ”

“No way!” smiled Elena.

“Very handy book, this,” Rusu commented as he flipped through the heavy tome. “Let’s see.. Page 182… Ah. Wow. Yeah, guys, here is it!” He read closely. “Interesting. The spell doesn’t look that complicated. Just a spoken incantation, no ingredients.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking.

“If I’m right…” Rusu finally declared, “…all I’d have to do is cast this spell over something, something small. Then whoever’s holding the little trinket would just magically know where Wolfwine is growing. Pretty simple, truth be told.”

“Can you do the spell?” asked Chief Moraru. Elena could tell; the big man was wrestling to keep his own hopes under control.

“Shit, why not?” Rusu shrugged. “You guys got a small object that you can part with?”

The two police officers were quickly digging through their pants pockets. “How about this?” Elena said, offering her spare keychain. It was a plain wooden disk, with SRABOV PD painted in red, square letters.

Rusu inspected the keychain. “Yeah, I guess that’ll do,” he agreed. “Here, gimme…”

The young man placed the book in his lap, and then set the keychain atop the current pages. A look of determined concentration settled upon his face. And then, while passing his hands over the little disk in opposite circles, he spoke in a low, glutaral voice. Elena cringed, just a little. These words were ugly and evil, and she suddenly felt as if the room was devoid of breathable air.

Rusu continued speaking, his voice growing quieter, yet more powerful. Perhaps it was Elena’s imagination, but the very walls seemed to be trembling. The rain outside pounded even harder on the windows.

And then, there was a flash of light, right on top of Rusu’s book. With that, the young man stopped speaking, and the world seemed to reset to normal.

“There,” Rusu said, sounding pleased with himself. “I think I got it!” With pride, he thrust the keychain back toward the two police officers.

Neither Chief Moraru nor Elena moved.

“Oh, go on,” chuckled Rusu. “Its perfectly safe.”

With reluctant fingers, Moraru accepted the newly-birthed talisman. To Elena’s eyes, nothing looked different.

But then, the chief’s eyes widened. “Holy Jesus,” he proclaimed. “We… we should look…”

And with a expression of disbelief, Chief Moraru lifted a hand and pointed off to his left, and down the hill. “There,” he said with certainty. “Two hundred paces, thataway.”

Rusu nodded thoughtfully. “Two hundred paces… There’s a small swamp on this property, lying in that direction. I’ll bet the Wolfwine would be found in there. You’d only be able to locate it while holding that, however,” he reminded his guests, and pointed to the talisman.

“Oh, wow,” Elena exclaimed, feeling hopeful once again. “This plan could work.”

Outside, there was another crash of thunder. All three people jumped.

“You guys, ah, want to go looking for the plant now?” Rusu asked warily.

Chief Moraru slipped the talisman into his pocket. “Naw,” he replied. “The storm’s gonna pound us for hours, through the night. There’s no chance of a moon, so no werewolf.” He looked at Rusu carefully. “Sir, can we return in the morning to search your swamp?”

“Of course,” Rusu exclaimed. “Guys… you’re on the cusp of capturing a **_real freakin’ werewolf!_** Of course I want in on this!” His eyes were shining. “Think of what the other witches will think!”

“Calm down, Mr. Rusu,” warned Chief Moraru. “One step at a time.”

He rose. “Let’s call it a night. Officer Păcuraru and I will be back in the morning. We’ll proceed from there.”

Rusu seemed to have trouble containing his disappointment. “If you say so, chief,” was all he said at last.

*** *** *** ***

Elena and Chief Moraru had to run to the squad car, as the rain was pouring down in buckets. Although they’d parked a mere thirty meters from Rusu’s front door, they were soaked by the time they clamored into the vehicle.

Moraru glared at his junior partner as he fitted the key into the ignition. His moustache was bristling slightly.

“I thought I told you to follow my lead!” he snapped.

Elena was taken aback. “Oh... Uh, sorry, chief,” she mumbled.

As he turned the engine over, Moraru shook his head. “That Rusu kid might seem all friendly. But he’s a witch, and magic always warps the brain of witches. You can’t trust ‘em.”

“He seems eager to help us,” Elena pointed out.

“Yeah,” grunted the chief, snapping on the headlights and putting the car into gear. “But we shouldn’t rely on this guy any more than we have to.” In a stern voice, he added, ” ** _You get me?_** ”

“Yessir,” nodded Elena.

Moraru started down the manor house’s long driveway. He and his deputy rode off in silence.

*** *** *** ***


	3. I Desperately Need Your Help

Elena woke the next morning with a stiffness in her back. She’d slept on the same bed since she was a girl in primary school, and it definitely time to get a new mattress. Groaning a little, the young woman stumbled off into her apartment’s shower.

The hot water stung her skin, especially the scar on her leg. She’d picked that scar up while at the police academy, a year back. How long ago that now seemed! For a moment, Elena allowed herself to slip into nostalgia.

But the real world beaconed. Thirty minutes later, Elena had changed into her uniform and was stepping out her little cottage’s door. The overnight storm had done quite a number to Srabov; the streets were littered with broken branches and odd bits of trash. A telephone pole down the street had been pushed to the ground. Puddles were everywhere.

Normally, the young deputy would walk the twenty minutes into town, and pause to have a coffee at Mihaela’s Café. But one glance at the disheveled streets suggested that this would be a bad idea. No doubt people were calling the police station right now, reporting road disruptions and storm damage. Chief Moraru would need her.

Elena slipped back into her little house and grabbed her bike.

*** *** *** ***

Upon arriving at the tiny Srabov Police Station, Elena frowned. Ana-Maria, their fat secretary, was alone at her desk, blowing on her coffee.

“Chief Moraru’s not in yet?” Elena asked in surprise. Moraru liked to be the first one in.

Ana-Maria shook her head, yawning like a bear.

That was unusual. Moraru was a dedicated creature of habit. Could he have gone back to Ȋnfricoşăror Hill without her?

The phone rang, and Ana-Maria took the call. Elena went to her own desk, annoyed that she might have been left out of the Great Werewolf Hunt, even for a minor step like gathering the Wolfwine. Couldn’t the chief at least told her that-

“Officer?” Ana-Maria said, her voice worried. “On the phone, that was Andrei Geoană, over on Măr Street. He said… you’d better get over there.”

Elena felt a stab of alarm. Chief Moraru and his wife lived on Măr Street.

*** *** *** ***

As she pulled the squad car over, Elena could already see a sizable crowd gathered on Măr Street, murmuring and pointing. The beautiful young deputy was growing truly worried now; the people were standing directly before Chief Moraru’s little cottage.

“Stand back!” Elena shouted, trying to take control of the situation. The crowd parted to let her by, but did not disperse.

The front door of the little house had been smashed and torn off its hinges. Inside, Elena could see a few pieces of furniture smashed and upended.

“Oh sweet Lord,” Magda Covachi, a grocery clerk, murmured. “Something terrible has happened!”

“What could have done that to the door?” Alexandru Novac wondered in fear.

“Everyone, stay here,” Elena said firmly. She did her best to swallow the terror rising inside her, then stepped forward. As she moved down the little walkway to Chief Moraru’s door, she placed a wary hand on her revolver. Too late, Elena realized that she hadn’t loaded silver bullets. Tense, she approached the doorway.

“Chief…?” the young deputy called into the cottage. There was no answer.

Elena stepped closer. Her eyes and ears strained, but could detect nothing within the house. In the far distance, a dog was barking.

After what felt like a lifetime, Elena reached the doorway. Her heart pounding, she thrust her head into the cabin.

There, on the living room carpet, was what remained of Chief Moraru’s body. The large man had been violently shredded, and there was little left of him to identify his corpse. The entire living room was splattered with blood. The stink was oppressive.

Just beyond Moraru’s body was a second corpse, also cut to ribbons. The tatters of a floral nightgown told Elena that that poor creature could have only been Mrs. Moraru.

“ ** _OH MY GOD!!!_** ” screamed Magda Covachi, hovering just over Elena’s shoulder. “ ** _OH MY GOD!!!_** ”

The entire crowd had crept up behind Elena, and now they beheld the grisly fate of the Morarus. Every last one of them erupted into shrieks and hysteria.

“No, wait! Wait!” Elena implored, but it was too late. The townspeople were beside themselves with horror.

“ ** _LOOK!!!_** ” shouted Ionuţ Popa. He was pointing to the muddy earth.

There, marching across the Moraru lawn, were the biggest canine tracks Elena had ever seen. Each heavy pawprint was the size of a dinner plate.

*** *** *** ***

It was pandemonium at the Srabov Police Station. Word of the werewolf attack had spread across town like wildfire, and now a small army of townspeople were thronged outside the little building. People were pounding on the windows and doors, shouting, “ _What will you do to protect us?_ ” over and over and over again.

Inside the station’s little conference room, Mayor Grigorcea was staring down a chastened Elena. “How did this happen?” the older man demanded, almost beside himself.

Poor Elena was still trembling with tears. **_How could Chief Moraru be dead?_** He had been the rock Elena depended upon. It seemed impossible that he would never sit at his desk again. She wished she felt her mentor’s steely resolve and calm.

“The chief and I, we had a plan,” Elena attempted to explain. “We thought we had a little more time to put it all together.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mayor Grigorcea swore. He slammed a hand on the table. “Christ! Were any other people attacked last night?”

In truth, Elena had no way of knowing. Ever since the discovery of Chief Moraru’s death, Ana-Maria’s telephone had been ringing off the hook. People were flooding the office with missing person reports and werewolf sightings. Not five minutes ago, Cristian Jderoiu had called in to frantically report that his neighbor Ştefan Bourean wasn’t answering his phone and thus must be a werewolf victim! Then, the phone rang again, this time it was Ştefan Bourean worried sick because he couldn’t find Cristian Jderoiu out in his garden, and had to mean that poor Christian was eaten, didn’t it?

“Look,” Elena said, willing herself to feel calmer. “Chief Moraru and I had a good plan. It can still work. If you can call in a reserve police chief, I can get busy-“

“Reserve nothing!” Mayor Grigorcea shook his head. “Sweetheart, I can’t get another officer here for at least five days, even on an emergency basis. **_You’re_** the police chief now.”

“Me?” gulped Elena.

“You,” said Grigorcea, pointing a determined finger. “Look, missy, I know you’re just a woman and this really isn’t woman’s work. But this town needs you.”

Despite the sexist barb, Elena forced herself to look the mayor in the eye. “Fine. But I can’t police this whole town by myself. Get on the phone, and find a replacement.”

“Oh, God,” the older man groaned, sinking into a chair. “And the Holiday is just two weeks off…!”

“Mayor,” Elena said in a voice of steel, “you handle those frightened crowds out there. I’ll find this creature and kill it. I swear.”

*** *** *** ***

The house on Ȋnfricoşăror Hill looked grimmer than Elena remembered. She parked her squad car and knocked on the door, surprised at how uneasy she felt to be on her first case, alone.

Rusu answered the door, once again. He looked sleepy-eyed.

“Is it morning already?” the young man joked. “Here, com’on in. You want coffee?” He frowned. “Where’re your boots? If we going into the swamp-“

“Chief Moraru is dead,” Elena interrupted. “The werewolf killed him.”

Rusu’s face went slack. “What…?” he gaped. “How? When?”

Elena stepped inside, feeling the full weight of Srabov on her shoulders. “Last night,” she said heavily. “The thing came in through the rain, and tore the poor chief to pieces.”

“Holy shit,” Rusu murmured. “This monster is serious.”

“Look, Mr. Rusu…” the beautiful police officer said, picking her words with care, “I desperately need your help. I need your help like no other human being has ever needed help from another human being before. Can you stand with me to catch this creature?”

Rusu paused, his lips pressed together. “You know, werewolves instinctively hunt the alphas of whatever flock they are stalking. The thing killed your chief because he was the biggest threat.” He took a step back. “That means you could next. Or I could be, should I help you.”

A flash of fear and anger roiled over Elena. “Mr. Rusu,” she said, forcing herself to sound calm, “this creature will slaughter **_all of us_** if I can’t stop it. All of us, you hear me?” She fixed Rusu in a hard stare. “Now… **_please_** … can we search your swamp for the Wolfwine?”

Rusu searched her face.

“Shit, you’re right,” he muttered. “Fine. You can search; I’ll go with you. Would be good to know where Wolfwine grows on the property, I guess.” He scratched his chin absently. “You got the talisman?”

*** *** *** ***

Unfortunately, the original talisman had gone into Chief Moraru’s pocket when Elena had last seen it. She and Rusu had to create a second one, this time using a large coin. Then, once Elena sensed the location of the elusive, magical weed, she borrowed a pair of goloshes. She and her host then tromped down Ȋnfricoşăror Hill, casting worried glances into the nearby forest.

“I actually haven’t been in the swamp since the house was on the market,” Rusu said nervously. “Even then, I didn’t spend any time in there. Too many mosquitoes.”

“You think the creature could be living in the swamp?” Elena fretted.

Rusu considered the question. “No…” he said finally. “Usually, a werewolf is a cursed human, right? Unless our creature is a rare offshoot, I don’t think it would make the swamp its lair. I think.”

By now, the two young people were stepping into the thick, Romanian forest. A ghostly fog was rising from the ground. Elena stepped forward, and felt her boot sink into something wet and squishy.

The beautiful police office pushed through another clump of tall pitcher plants, and suddenly she found herself staring at a small bog, mist swirling over the dark water. The gaunt trees were thick here, and little sunlight was streaming through their branches. Somewhere amid a cluster of lilies and swamp-reeds, a toad was croaking nonstop. There was a chill wind here.

“…careful!” warned Rusu.

Elena stepped forward, and immediately her leg sung knee-deep into brown muck. She snatched a low-handing tree-branch just before toppling into the water.

“Ugh,” the police woman said, revolted. She could feel the cold water flood into her boot.

With effort, Elena yanked her boot back, cursing under her breath. The boot emerged, dripping with black goo and smelling foul.

“Oh, Jesus,” Rusu said, and pointed. Within the slimy pond, and under the water, there was a dead boar, its eyes wide open in terror, its mouth screaming wordlessly for breath. The beast was frozen in place, its body tortured and lifeless.

Elena wanted to vomit. This whole swamp stank of death.

“Let’s just find the Wolfwine and get out of here,” Rusu urged her.

He was right. Elena slipped her hand into her pocket. The enchanted coin was there, and somehow just touching it made the police woman feel better.

“Hey!” she said sharply. “The plant is…”

With certainty, she pointed to the water’s edge. “There! Its there.”

“You sure?” Rusu asked uncertainly. “That just looks like swamp reeds.”

“That’s it,” said Elena with determination. Moving carefully, she sloshed her way along the bog’s edge. As she drew nearer, she clearly saw quite a bit of the Wolfwine plant, growing proudly in perhaps three centimeters of water. The thin little weed looked almost exactly as it had in the book diagrams.

“Where is it?” Rusu asked from behind her. He looked about. “Seriously, are you certain its here?”

“You really can’t see it?” Elena said, amazed. She knelt, and gently plucked one of the Wolfwine from the soft earth. “See?”

Rusu’s eyes went wide in amazement. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed.

Elena offered the stalk to the young man, amused at the childlike wonder in his eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” Rusu murmured, fingering the Wolfwine’s short leaves. “Its just like in the books.” He looked about. “How did you spot it?”

“For real, you can’t see it?” asked Elena. “There’s a big patch of the stuff in front of us.”

As proof, she picked four more stalks of the tall weed. The plant gave off a nauseating aroma, like cinnamon and vinegar mixed together.

“How much of this stuff do we need?” the beautiful deputy asked, handing her crop to Rusu.

“Not much,” Rusu told her. His grin faded. “Hey, can we get out of here? I have a feeling…” He swallowed. “…that we’re being watched.”

Elena glanced about. Standing here at the water’s edge, she felt exposed, too. It was easy to imagine something horrible creeping up on her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Let’s scram.”

*** *** *** ***

Thankfully, no hideous creature appeared on the walk back to the house. Elena breathed easier when she and Rusu were able to sit down on the front porch.

Rusu was examining the Wolfwine with great interest. “So, we grind up this top part here,” he thought out loud, “then make sure the pollen is caught in the open air. According to the literature, the werewolf will come running.” He tossed a worried look at his beautiful companion. “But then what?”

“I don’t know,” groaned Elena, yanking off her muck-covered boot. Wet, black stains were running up her uniform’s pants leg.

She tossed aside the boot. “Moraru wanted to lure the creature into the open, then shoot it,” she groused. “I suppose we could still do that.”

“I’ve never fired a gun in my life,” confessed Rusu.

“Shooting requires training, you can’t just pick one up and be a sharpshooter, not like in the movies,” Elena admitted. She wriggled her toes, thinking. “There might be another way.”

“Great,” said Rusu. “What?”

The beautiful cop pursed her lips together, making rapid calculations. Could she trust Rusu? The young man seemed genuinely eager to destroy the werewolf. Why, Elena wasn’t certain… but she undoubtedly needed the help.

That night, Elena knew, there would be clear skies and a bright moon. It was likely the werewolf would strike again.

The young woman made a snap decision. “Listen,” she said, leaning forward, “there’s another witch in Srabov. An old woman named Augula. You heard of her?”

Rusu shook his head.

“I’ve only met her once,” Elena continued. “In her wagon, she has a vampire’s eyeball, and-“

Immediately, Rusu’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit…!” he murmured. “You certain?”

Elena nodded. “Yeah. It nearly hypnotized me.” She studied Rusu’s face carefully. “You know much about vampire eyes?”

“Only that they’re **_extremely_** rare,” Rusu breathed, gazing out at the forest. “Like, I’ve read that only five or so have ever been found in private collections. Apparently, once you gaze at the eye, it has power over your mind. You will become a slave to whomever possesses it.”

“You see where I’m going, right?” pressed Elena. “We get the eye. We use the Wolfwine, lure the werewolf, and then hypnotize it. Then… I dunno, command it to jump into the swamp, or something. That should work, don’t you think?”

Rusu rubbed his jaw, nodding slowly. “Wow… A vampire’s eye. Yeah, that should work. I guess. Werewolves are magical creatures, so they’re immune to some spells. But… Hmm. There’s a lot of legends of vamps hypnotizing werewolves and enslaving them. So we should be on solid ground here. Should be.”

“Okay,” Elena said, exhaling in relief.

Rusu gave her a funny look. “How are you going to get the eye?”

“Oh,” said Elena. “I’ll confiscate it. I’m the acting chief of police, and Romanian law allows for seizure of property in the event of an emergency.” She shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Unless Augula realized what you’re trying to do, and hypnotizes you first.”

“Yeah…” Elena winced. “Well, I’ll just have to be careful. I don’t see that we have another option. Unless you want to shoot at a werewolf charging at you.”

Rusu looked like he wanted to argue. But the young man simply closed his mouth and nodded.

“Okay,” Elena said. She’d left her black leather shoes on the porch, and now she put them back on, one-by-one. “I’ll get the eye. Then I need to get back to town and check in with the mayor, or else he’ll do something foolish, like start deputizing some of the local farmhands. Can you and I meet up late this afternoon? We’ll wait until after sundown, then spring the trap.”

“Sure,” replied Rusu. But he didn’t sound confident.

“Thanks,” Elena said softly. She put an appreciative hand on his forearm. “I’m glad you’re in this fight with me.”

Rusu flashed a nervous smile back. “Thanks, Officer Păcuraru.”

“Call me Elena,” smiled the young woman.

*** *** *** ***

Elena left Rusu’s manor house and made straight for Orăşel Town. Could it have been only yesterday that she and Chief Moraru had made this journey? The young woman felt older than her years now.

It was child’s play to locate the old dirt road that led to the river. Soon, Elena was pulling to up to the great, dead oak that stood guard by the river. Half a dozen crows were sitting in the tree, watching the young police officer with interested, glinting eyes.

Elena swore. Augula’s wagon was not there. There were horseprints and wagonwheel tracks that headed to the hardened dirt road… and then vanished.

*** *** *** ***

As much as she wanted to return to Orăşel Town and ask about the whereabouts of the old witch, Elena knew she had to return to Srabov. As the new chief of police, she needed to be near the townspeople, or else the panicked citizens were liable to take matters into their own hands. Elena worried that they would scapegoat some poor innocent, and then she’d have a mob on her hands.

Sure enough, there was still an angry crowd clamoring for action when Elena pulled up to the police station. The beautiful young officer pushed her way through the shouting people, praying that nothing violent had happened in her absence.

“There you are!” Ana-Maria exclaimed in relief when Elena burst into the little police office. “The town’s about to riot! We’ve discovered three other werewolf attacks that happened last night!”

“Three?” Elena said weakly. “Are you sure?”

*** *** *** ***

The werewolf had had a busy night. Not only had poor Chief Moraru and his wife been victims, but Darius Gheorghe, Alina Laurențiu, and old Mara Sorin had all been mauled to death as well. Mihai, Srabov’s mortician, was working overtime to collect the scant remains.

There was no rhyme nor reason to the attacks that Elena could see. As the storm raged, the creature must have torn through the heart of Srabov, randomly selecting its prey, and showing no mercy. People were now suspecting that much of the town’s damage had not been caused by the harsh weather.

Mayor Grigorcea was almost beside himself. The old man was visibly shaken, talking in short, tortured sentences when he said anything at all. If there was any upside to the situation, it was that the mayor was so paralyzed by his horror, that he wasn’t doing anything foolish. But Elena doubted that his inactivity would last.

Meanwhile, the alarmed townspeople had organized themselves into a militia. The center of town was commandeered, and the people went to work building a makeshift barricade from whatever materials they could find. They hoped to hold off the werewolf from inside their improvised fortress. Elena doubted this would work.

*** *** *** ***

As Srabov’s only surviving police officer, Elena had to photograph and take detailed notes at every attack site. It was stomach-churning work. Some of the townspeople hovered over her, anxious watching and asking her foolish questions.

Only when the last attack had been documented, did Elena realize how exhausted she was. Hours had somehow slipped by, and she hadn’t eaten a thing all day. Now, the sun was setting.

The young officer trudged into the police station, relieved to see that the lights were out and the place appeared to be empty. Ana-Maria’s nerves had failed her, and the secretary had run off to join the militia shortly before suppertime. The station was deathly quiet.

 _I’ve gotta get back over to Rusu’s house_ , the young police officer reminded herself.

But her weariness was overpowering. Elena ignored the handful of people who were lingering outside the station’s front door. She slumped onto the beaten old couch in Chief Moraru’s office, and quickly drifted into a deep and powerful sleep. Night was just falling.

*** *** *** ***


	4. Rose Petal

The first thing of which Elena was aware was the stiffness in her body. Her arms and legs and back ached, a low, throbbing pain that could not be ignored. She groaned softly.

As the young officer exhaled, she became aware of a damp coldness on her entire skin. She frowned, slightly. The sensation was quite unpleasant.

Her thoughts were returning as she roused from her deep slumber. She was lying down. Elena absently moved to rub her face…

Immediately, a biting pain laced through her side! She’d been lying atop her arm, and her almost-tranquilized body protested the use of any muscles.

 _What the hell?_ Elena thought, annoyed. She struggled to open her eyes.

Horror gripped the young woman the instant she looked around. She was outdoors, lying on the cold floor inside a great, black iron cage. Outside the bars, Elena could see an open grass field, and then the trees of a forest beyond. The skies were above gray.

The next shock was that Elena was completely naked. Her clothes were gone, and her long black hair, normally pulled up in a regulation bun, was now hanging freely.

Elena yelped, instinctively covering her breasts and curling her legs up toward her body.

“Well now,” a familiar voice said, “good to see that you’re back from the dead.”

The nude woman whirled around. Behind her, just outside the cage, was Rusu, dressed in a hunting-jacket, brown trousers, and leather boots. In his hands, he held a small knapsack. Behind Rusu, Elena could see his manor house.

“ ** _What the fuck?!?_** ” screeched Elena, trying to withdraw and cover up her nakedness at the same time.

“Don’t bother,” Rusu told her. “I’ve already seen every inch of you. You’ve got a nice booty, girl.”

“ ** _You sick bastard!_** ” spat Elena, her rushed emotions piling on top of one another. “ ** _You fucking kidnapped me?!?_** ”

The young man tilted his head, just slightly. “Sort of. You don’t remember, I see.”

Elena stared at her captor. “Remember **_what?!?_** ”

“You’re the werewolf,” Rusu said sternly. “I was stunned when I realized it, but there’s no doubt. No doubt at all.”

“ ** _WHAT?!?_** ” cried poor Elena. “No. No, that makes no fucking sense…!”

Rusu shook his head sadly. “So I waited for you to return last night,” he explained. “Waited for almost an hour after sundown. When you didn’t show, I decided, fuck it, I would capture the werewolf myself. So I ground up the Wolfwine, set it out in a basin, and let the wind scatter it about. And I waited, with about twenty torches stuck in the ground.

“And within no more than a half an hour, an enormous black-haired wolf appeared at the edge of my property, right there,” Rusu went on, pointing across his field. “Of course, the beast charged me in a rage. But luckily, I had this…”

Now Rusu’s hand dipped into his knapsack. He withdrew a small object, wrapped in cloth. With great satisfaction, he tossed aside the bag, then unwrapped the shroud.

Elena thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. There, in Rusu’s hand, was Augula’s vampire eyeball, still within its little glass case. The eye gazed at Elena, as if projecting pure hatred directly at her.

“Where did you get that?” Elena asked, stunned.

“Never you mind,” replied Rusu. He rewrapped the little glass case. “The point is, I had it when the thing rushed me. But I simply held the eye up, allowed the werewolf to gaze at it… and suddenly, I was in control.

“The creature lost all of its rage and aggression. It obeyed me as meekly as a puppy dog. Well… more like a zombie, actually. So I simply commanded the thing to walk into this cage and fall into a deep sleep. I locked it up, and then I waited.

“Shortly after sunup, the wolf’s body changed, becoming you. And here you are,” Rusu said grandly, gestured at the captured woman. “Naked as the day you were born, and with no memory of last night. Am I wrong?”

Elena hugged herself tighter, glaring at the young man. “I can’t be the werewolf,” she insisted. “I fucking can’t!”

“How can you know?” asked Rusu.

“Because…” Elena felt her head spinning.

“Think about it,” Rusu said, beginning a slow stroll outside the bars of the cage. “Think about every werewolf attack in Srabov. Where were you? I’ll bet you **_thought_** you were at home, and asleep the whole time, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“That’s the typical experience described by those with The Curse,” Rusu remarked sadly. “Most people with werewolfism are dimly aware of their experiences while in their beast form. But others have absolutely no memory of their time as a monster. They can live for years without being aware, if the circumstances are right.”

“I can’t be a fucking werewolf!” insisted Elena. She wracked her brain, seeking to remember all she could about werewolf lore. “A person becomes a werewolf when they’re bitten, right?”

“What’s that?” Rusu asked, pointing at Elena’s left calf.

The young woman glanced down at her leg scar. “Oh,” she frowned. “I got nipped by a K9 training dog, back in the academy. But that mutt wasn’t-“

“Wasn’t a werewolf?” Rusu interrupted. “You sure? This is Transylvania. And sometimes the Curse is passed along in unexpected ways.”

Fear was coursing through Elena’s veins. Could Rusu be right? Could she be the Creature? It all seemed too horrible to be possible.

She closed her eyes, concentrating, willing her heart and breath to slow down. Elena’s thoughts tumbled…

And as she willed calm, a fragment of memory bobbed up in her mind. It was hazy, but… Elena could see Chief Moraru, in his last moments, throwing his arms up before his face, shouting in terror… She could taste his delicious flesh… She remembered the rush of the kill…

It was true.

“Oh my God!” Elena screamed, throwing herself forward. She landed on all fours, gasping for air. Her stomach churned violently.

 ** _She was a werewolf?!?_** The young woman reeled, desperately praying for some other explanation, **_ANY_** other explanation to exert itself. Tears erupted from her eyes. Poor Elena pounded the floor of the cage, shrieking in rage and disbelief.

*** *** *** ***

It took a minute or two before the young woman got control of her shattered feelings. Her desperate thoughts were racing, and in that moment, a solution occurred to her. The thought was like a ray of light cutting heavy, dark clouds.

“Hey, Florin…” Elena sniffed, collecting herself. She stood up – the cage was quite tall – and faced the younger man. Her nudity made it hard not to flinch. “Florin, you could cure me, right?” she appealed. “You can look at your book and research and cure me. …yeah?”

“There’s no cure,” Rusu said plainly. “Werewolfism is one of the vilest curses on Earth. Wizards have been seeking one since the Crusades.”

“Oh Jesus,” Elena moaned. “There’s… nothing?”

“Well, no-one can cure you,” Rusu told her. “But you and I could manage your condition.” He gestured to the cloth-wrapped vampire eye. “With this.”

Even though she was distraught and frightened, Elena was still a policewoman. Logical thinking was part of her approach to life. “Wait…” she said warily. “You can hypnotize me to not become a werewolf?” That didn’t make sense.

“If I can place you in a deep trance before your transformation,” Rusu proposed, “you’ll remain under my control even after you become a beast. I’ll simply tell you to sleep until the full moon has past, and you’ll be yourself again after its all over.”

Elena shifted on her feet. “…and we’d do this for the rest of my life?” she asked incredulously.

Shrugging, Rusu gave her a sympatric look. “Well, for the foreseeable future, anyway. But I promise: I’ll take good care of you.”

The nude young woman folded her arms over her chest. “I’m… not thrilled about the part when you put me in a trance and control my mind.”

“When you’re the beast, you’ll have no control over yourself, either,” Rusu pointed out.

Elena frowned. “I… don’t like this,” she said truthfully. “I don’t want to be under anyone’s mental control.”

“I’ll be fine,” Rusu assured her.

But the young man was too assuring, too casual, too eager. _He wants to hypnotize me,_ Elena realized. Once again, her police instincts were kicking in. _There’s something else going on here,_ she thought.

“Let me out of this cage,” she demanded. “Right now.”

Rusu’s smile faded. “But… your curse…”

“I want out of this cage,” Elena repeated firmly.

“I’ll let you out,” the male witch agreed, “but only if you consent to the hypnosis. It’s the only way to make sure I’d be safe, you understand.”

“Werewolves only transform under a full moon?” Elena asked pointedly.

“Well… There’s cases where extreme anger also triggers the transformation,” said Rusu. But he didn’t sound sure.

“Let me the fuck out,” demanded Elena. “Nothing is agreed to until I’m out of here.”

Rusu’s kind smile fell. The ends of his mouth turned downward. Then, with deliberate intent, he lowered his eyes to gaze directly at Elena’s exposed breasts.

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied wryly. “I’d hoped you agree to my little plan. But I’m going to hypnotize you one way or another, girl. And then, we’ll have some fun.”

Now Rusu’s voice was cold and cruel. He straightened his back.

Too late, Elena realized what was about to happen. She warned, “Florin, you’d better not…”

The young man withdrew the shroud over the little glass case in his hand. He held the case up, placing the vampire eye at the same level as Elena’s beautiful face. “Gaze into the eye, girl,” he instructed.

But Elena was ready for him. Immediately, she screwed her eyes shut, clamped her hands over her face, and dropped into a tight, kneeling position. “ ** _Fuck you!_** ” she screamed in anger and frustration.

“Ugh,” Rusu frowned, momentarily taken aback. “Its pointless to resist, girl. You can’t shut your eyes forever.”

“ ** _HELP ME!!!_** ” screeched Elena. “ ** _ANYONE, HELP ME!!!_** ”

“Please,” scoffed the male witch. “We’re at least kilometers out of town. No-one can hear us.”

“Fuck off and die, asshole!” Elena seethed.

“Fine,” Rusu sighed. “We’ll do this the hard way. _Rose petal_. You see, Elena, you’ve already been under my hypnotic spell, remember? Even though you were in wolf form, I had you in a deep trance, where I could put any hypnotic command I wanted into your pretty little head. _Rose petal_. So now, as I trigger you, you’ll find your resistance weakening. You’ll come around to my way of thinking, soon enough.”

“Whatever,” barked Elena.

Rusu drawled “No, posthypnotic commands are very much a thing. _Rose petal_. You feel it, don’t you? That tiny little urge within you to lower your guard and listen to me? Its small, but growing stronger. _Rose petal_. And it will continue to get stronger, so much stronger with every breath you take.”

To her dread, Elena realized she was feeling… strange. Her earlier alarm was fading, just slightly. And Rusu’s voice sounded sweet.

“ _Rose petal_. So relax, Elena girl. Soon enough, you’ll willingly gaze into the eye, and then you’ll feel so wonderful. So wonderful. So wonderful. _Rose petal_. You feel yourself growing calmer, don’t you? Every time I say _rose petal_ , you become tranquil, and have a desire to obey me. And now, you’re finding it hard to resist the power of my words.”

It was true. Every time he spoke the words “ _rose petal_ ,” Elena felt a little of her own self-control slipping. _Fight it!_ she thought to herself.

But Rusu spoke on. His words were flowing over her, cooling her rage. Why had Elena been so angry at him, anyway? She wasn’t sure. Come to think of it, Rusu seemed nice. Yes, a nice guy indeed.

“That’s it, _rose petal_ ,” the male witch coaxed. “Here, stand up and face me. Just for a moment. And this will all be over, I promise. _Rose petal_.”

That seemed reasonable. Allowing herself to smile a little, Elena straightened, dropping her hands and opening her eyelids.

“Gaze into the eye,” ordered Rusu.

The beautiful woman complied.

And the moment she looked upon the little black orb inside the glass case, her mind went blank. She was held by a powerful magic, unable to think, unable to resist. She wanted nothing but to obey.

*** *** *** ***

Rusu covered the vampire eye, then carefully tucked it back into his knapsack. Elena stood before him, her blank expressing gazing straight ahead, her body motionless except for her lungs filling with and expelling air. Her arms hung at her side, as if she’d forgotten them entirely.

Feeling bold, Rusu took out a heavy brass key from his pocket. He unlocked the cage’s padlock, and swung the door open. “Come out here, slave,” he commanded.

Like a sleepwalker, Elena stepped forward. Soon, she stood naked on the grass, simply gazing straight ahead with blank eyes.

Thrilled, Rusu moved before the entranced young woman. He cupped Elena’s breasts in his eager palms. Those breasts were soft and well-shaped, yet had a pleasing weight in his hands. The nipples were big and thick, and it thrilled the young man to nudge them softly with his thumbs and feel them harden at his stimulation.

Unable to help himself, Rusu leaned forward and licked one breast. He pressed his lips against the other one and gratefully sucked.

Elena did not respond. The vampire magic had completely subjugated her.

Delighted, Rusu continued kissing, but slid one grateful hand down around Elena’s side and lower back. Her runner’s buttocks were well-muscled, firm even when she was relaxing them.

It would have better, Rusu absently thought, if Elena willingly surrendered herself to the vampiric hypnotism. The male witch had done a little reading on this subject, and those who were strong-willed and tried to resist the bloodsucker’s gaze could usually retain a little bit of their own independent minds, somehow. But Elena seemed to be completely conquered, at least for the moment. She would obey his every command. She would happily let him fuck her.

“Listen to me, slave,” Rusu instructed. He pressed himself against Elena, his appreciative hand still on her rear end. “From now on, you are forever in my power. You have no will of your own, no desires except to please me. You exist to let me fuck you as much as I want.”

A thought occurred to the male witch. “Obedience makes you horny,” he told Elena, staring directly into her eyes. “Say it.”

“Obedience makes me horny,” Elena repeated.

“Again!”

“Obedience makes me horny,” the hypnotized woman said again.

Rusu felt a rush of power. This hypnotic suggestion had buried itself deep within Elena’s mind. It had deep roots. As long as she was with him, she’d become aroused anytime she carried out his bidding.

“Kiss me, slave,” Rusu demanded in triumph.

Without hesitation, Elena leaned forward and pressed her red lips against his. Her mouth was warm and inviting, and it thrilled Rusu to feel her tongue slip up against his own.

He was hard.

“…mmm…” Elena moaned absently as she kissed.

Rusu tore his mouth away. “When I snap my fingers,” he gasped, “you will awaken, completely believing yourself to be my slutty, willing slave. You will want nothing but to pleasure me in any way I desire, as many times as I desire. You cannot resist.” He clicked his fingers together, exactly once.

*** *** *** ***

Elena felt as if she were coming out of a powerful daydream. She glanced about, absently noting where she was.

“Hey there,” Rusu said, standing directly before her.

A wide smile broke across Elena’s face. “Well, hello, master,” she gushed.

To Elena’s surprise, she was wet. How could that be? The young woman wanted to touch herself, just to check… but there was no need. Shifting her legs a little allowed her to feel her own moistness, dribbling down the inside of her thigh. She was very aroused, indeed.

“Let’s go inside,” suggested Rusu casually. “I’d like to suck on your perfect titties for a while.”

“Really?” squealed Elena, delighted. “Yes, master!”

Obedience made Elena horny.

Not waiting for her orders, the enslaved woman snatched her master’s hand. She skipped toward the manor house, pulling Rusu after her.

*** *** *** ***

The second floor of the old manor house was almost uninhabitable. Most of the rooms were barren, in a frightful state of uncleanliness, with enormous cobwebs and thick layers of grime and dust on the floors. There were dead rats and cockroaches in some of the closets.

But Rusu had cleaned out a few rooms in the west wing. As he and his entranced slave-woman bounded up the stairs, the young man paused to catch his breath.

“Where can we fuck, master?” Elena asked, looking about excitedly. She skipped through the doorway of an open bedroom.

“No, not there!” wheezed Rusu, behind her.

Elena blinked in the dim light. In this room, she saw a folding table, holding a small pile of old books and perhaps thirty bottles of all shapes and sizes. Most of the bottles were labeled, although Elena couldn’t make out individual words in the poor light.

Immediately, Elena knew: this was the room where her master kept his witchcraft supplies. His collection was no-where as large as Augula’s… but looked impressive enough to her amateur eyes.

“Hey,” Rusu glowered in the doorway behind her. “Slave, get out of there. That’s not a room for you.”

Elena immediately returned to the hallway, immediately forgetting the strange little room. Her arousal was growing by the minute. Obedience made her horny. She would have agreed to hump her master up on the roof, if only it meant she could be having sex as soon as possible.

“In here,” ordered Rusu, leading the hypnotized young woman into a larger bedroom.

This room was well-cleaned, with only a grand, four poster bed in the center. The gauze-covered windows allowed natural light to stream inside, painting the drab walls with a soft glow. Individual specks of dust sparkled as they drifted within the sunbeams. The room smelled faintly of old wax.

Elena leapt onto the bed like a gazelle, then reclined onto her back. Before she could stop herself, her fingers dipped into her vagina, and the young woman sighed happily as she tasted her own arousal. Obedience made her horny.

“Hey,” Rusu said, amazed. “Don’t start without me.”

“Of course, master,” purred Elena, spreading her legs wide to show Rusu her wetness. “I want you to fuck me.”

“I’ll decide what we do,” Rusu frowned, unbuckling his belt.

“Mmm…” Elena sighed happily, and made a show of licking her lips.

The male witch stared at the sex-hungry woman on his bed. Her naked form was even more alluring than he pictured. In the soft light, he especially admired her round breasts, resting comfortably on her chest, gently rising and falling as she breathed. Elena’s skinny torso tapered down into her muscular legs as if one were sculpted to flow into another. The woman’s beautiful face was shining with both arousal and delight. Her eyes were heavily-lidded as she lightly bit one lip.

“Strip me,” ordered Rusu.

“Yes, master,” the hypnotized woman promised, scurrying off the bed.

First, she knelt at Rusu’s feet, pulling at his boot laces. It took almost a minute, but soon his shoewear and socks were stripped away, and he stood in bare feet.

Then with both speed and skill, Elena pulled off Rusu’s heavy jacket, and tore away his button-down shirt. She paused to hungrily kiss his exposed chest, reveling in the light red hair that crossed his skinny pectorals. As her lips worked, her fingers pulled at his zipper.

Then, as if unveiling a statue, Elena knelt, pulling Rusu’s trousers and underwear all the way to the floor. His erect, purple cock sprang out, delighted to be freed. Rusu stepped forward, pleased with the cool air all over his naked skin.

As if crazed, Elena grabbed the man’s cock, hungrily slipping it into her eager mouth. She did not move rashly; no, to Rusu, it was as if his penis had slid into the softest and wettest of eager vaginas. He exhaled gratefully, overcome with sensations as Elena treated his thankful member.

Oh, she was supremely talented! Rusu had experienced his fair share of oral pleasure, true, but Elena was skilled beyond most women. She used her tongue to cradle the penis, and her lips to wash over his tip with **_just_** the right amount of pressure and spit. Her rhythm started slow, but began to gain speed.

Rusu sighed and laughed a little. _To think!_ he thought. _Yesterday, this gorgeous woman would have slapped me if I asked for a blow job. Now she happily services me because I’ve enslaved her!_

Reacting to this thought, Rusu’s cock trembled. He had not intended to cum into Elena’s mouth, but the moment possessed him. Rusu could resist her.

His penis fired, delightedly squirting away into Elena. She felt the semen on her tongue, and in her hypnotized state, thought it was wonderous. And because of the spell occupying her mind, she began to cum, too.

“Mmm!” Elena moaned, still working Rusu’s cock at top speed. “Mmm, mmm, mmm!!!”

“Oh God,” the male witch groaned. His knees felt weak.

His orgasm faded. Working carefully, Elena let him slip from her mouth, then wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “I’m still horny, master,” she gasped. “Pleasure me?”

“I…” Rusu was at a loss. “I’m spent!” he protested.

Elena grabbed his wrist, and then propelled him onto the bed. “Suck my titties, master,” she begged, settling onto her back. “Suck ‘em, and touch me…” She spread her legs and guided Rusu’s hand to her gleaming vagina. “…here…!”

For less than a second, Rusu balked. Wasn’t he the master? Why should the master pleasure the slave? Shouldn’t Elena wait for him to fuck her, at a time he chose?

But those full breasts and big nipples called to him. Enjoying himself, Rusu lowered his lips to Elena’s chest, and began sucking. Immediately, the hypnotized woman gasped aloud in delight. “Touch me!” she implored, and spread her legs even wider. She grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand to her crotch.

The male witch was fascinated with how wet Elena was. Her scent was strong, and it was going to work on resuscitating his lust. Amused, he stroked her, just once.

“Oh, God…!” Elena shrieked, arching her back. Her legs tensed.

Rusu began rubbing, slowly but firmly, and went back to kissing his slave’s breasts. Her nipples were tall and hard, and it excited him as his tongue swept around them. At the same time, Elena was breathing heavily, quivering and mumbling to herself as her own orgasm began to build.

The young woman began babbling aloud. Her hypnosis-addled mind fueled the words streaming from her mouth, causing her to speak whatever thoughts were bubbling up from her subconscious. She had no idea what she was saying.

“Oh, master…” she squirmed, “oh, your touch in my fucking pussy, my fucking pussy, I’m so wet, I’m your slave, master, dominate me, I’ll do whatever you fucking want, I fucking love you, oh God, oh, I’m so wet, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, master, all over your fucking fingers, oh master, oh you make me so fucking hot, don’t fucking stop, master, obedience makes me horny, you are my master, I am your fuck-slave, ohhhhhhhhhhh, yeah, I’m gonna cum, cum, cum, cum! Ohhh, fuck me…” And on and on. Elena was entirely unaware of the lustful stream of consciousness she was gushing forth, but all of it was emanating straight from her bewitched thoughts.

As she rambled of, Rusu was surprised to discover… he was growing hard again! His cock was swelling up, and he could feel the cold dribble of semen from his own tip. As Elena surrendered to her whirlpool of desire, he was getting ready to fuck again!

The young woman bucked, accidently thrusting one of her breasts against Rusu’s face.

“Oh, shit!” the horny young man grunted. “Oh, I so have to fuck you now.”

“Yeah, master!” Elena moaned, lifting her legs. “Come inside me, hurry!”

“No, not like that,” Rusu panted. “I want doggie style.”

With no objections, Elena rushed to get on all fours. Her clawing fingers grabbed the pillow as she set her knees apart, pointed her rear at Rusu, and braced herself.

She didn’t have to wait long. Rusu grabbed her by the buttocks, spreading her so he could snuggle in. Both lovers gasped as their slimy genitals touched.

“You ready, master?” Elena asked, closing her eyes. “Fuck me. Hard!”

Rusu slid in, all the way.

Elena was so lubricated that there was no friction. Her master’s cock felt so good, so good, and she smiled to herself in anticipation.

“Unnnngh,” the young woman sighed happily. “Obedience makes me sooo… hornyyy…!”

Rusu spanked her once, then slid his hands to her hips. He clamped on, then began thrusting in and out, in and out, in and out with a force he’d never known before. His penis felt like it was being bathed in a wonderous elixir. Soon, he couldn’t stop. He attacked her with a wolflike passion.

As she felt herself getting services, Elena gasped in wonder and joy. “Ohhhhh God, harder, master!” she cried, then began her hypnosex-babbling all over again.

And that was it. Rusu felt the tip of his cock blossom, and then he was cumming all over again. To his amazement, his orgasm was bigger and more powerful than before. He laughed out loud, and raised his head high.

Elena felt her master’s thrusting intensify, and she lost all control. Her own vagina burst into song, and she wailed too as her orgasm washed over her. Strangely, she absently thought that she could smell the scent of rose petals lingering in the air…

*** *** *** ***

Rusu finished, then commanded Elena to lie with him, to absently playing with his cock, and to whisper filthy sex-talk in his ear. Within another twenty minutes, he was ready to fuck her again. They pleasured one another in the doggie position again, then rested, then fucked again, and again after that. The whole day seemed to be an endless cycle of sex and relaxation.

After the sixth (or was it the seventh?) round, however, Rusu felt his will growing tired. Elena had no limit of sexual energy, but Rusu was spent. “We have to sleep,” he mumbled to his hypnotized slave.

“Aww…” Elena moped.

Rusu rolled onto his back, and tried to ignore Elena as she hopefully fingered with his exhausted penis. The young man grinned to himself. The vampire eye worked beyond his wildest dreams! Of course, Elena was showing signs of mental independence. He would have to entrance her a few more times to permanently brainwash her and reduce her to a mindless and ever-eager sextoy. One good, long session tonight would be a good first step.

After Elena was fully under his domination? Rusu allowed his mind to wander, making plans. Well, he’d take Elena across Europe, using the vampire eye on other hotties. One-by-one, the most beautiful women in the world would fall under his spell. They’d willingly strip for him, climb into his bed, and ride his cock all night long, happily calling him ‘master.’ Perhaps he’d have Elena fuck them… just when he wanted to watch… Lesbian sex had… always… aroused… aroused…

Before he realized what was happening, Rusu drifted off into a deep, coma-like sleep.

*** *** *** ***


	5. Byanthan

A shaft of dim moonlight slipped through the window. Elena opened one eye. The old manor house was silent.

She was still nude, snuggled against the body of her master, who was snoring softly. The two were lying atop the sweaty bedsheets, their bodies wrapped about one another.

Elena yawned and rubbed her face absently. What time was it? She had no idea. For what must have been the better part of the day, she and her master had gleefully fucked one another. Now her vagina was tingling, her bladder was full, her stomach was empty, and her throat was parched.

Her thoughts still a jumbled mess, Elena slipped from the bed, wincing a little. In all the rampant sex, she might have pulled a muscle in her groin.

The hardwood floor was cold under her bare feet. Elena crept out of the bedroom, squinting to see in the dark house. The old floor groaned softly beneath her. Out in the hallway, there was a door to her left, a door to her right, and the grand staircase descending before her. She frowned, wondering where to go.

Bathroom first. The first two doors Elena tried did not have a toilet behind them, but the third one did. And it was mercifully clean. Elena took care of her immediate needs.

After washing (and doing her best to wipe the dried semen from inside her legs), the hypnotized young woman crept back out into the hallway. Where was the master’s bedroom? She had lost track.

Groping a little, Elena found a promising doorknob. She turned it, and stepped inside the bedroom.

But this was not her master’s bed chamber. Before Elena, was a folding table, holding books and bottles. A dull orange light was shining from three of the bottles, casting weird shadows about the room.

Oh! Elena remembered. This was the room where her master kept his witchcraft supplies. His books and ingredients for potions, no doubt, were all on the table before her. What had he told her about this room? _Slave, get out of there. That’s not a room for you._

But Elena’s mind was still fogged by the spell of vampiric hypnosis. Amused, she stepped forward, lifting one of the bottles containing a dancing orange light. It was neatly labeled: **_FIREBALL_** and was slightly warm to the touch. Indeed, the glowing orb within the glass was flickering like natural flame.

 _So weird_ , Elena thought, setting the bottle down. Curious, she picked up a second bottle, this one emitting a dark green glow. This one said **_BYANTHAN_**.

Byanthan? How did Elena know that word?

Oh, yes… The old witch, Augula, had mentioned that word. Elena’s thoughts traveled back, to the distant time before she had been hypnotized into becoming a slave… Augula had said, _Byanthan is an elixir that is concentrated moonshine. If you release it, it forces a person under The Curse to revert to their werewolf form. Then you’ve got a snarling monster rushing at you. Who wants that?_

Elena frowned. Augula. Didn’t Augula originally possess the vampire’s eye which Elena’s master had used to hypnotize her? Augula wouldn’t have given up that eye willingly.

Slowly, the wheels in Elena’s mind were starting to turn. The hypnosis began to thaw. Her thoughts began the process of ordering themselves.

The young woman set down the bottle of Byanthan, and picked up a third glass vessel with both hands, a big, thicker jar with a metal lid. The jar held a black object inside, one that…

The object moved! It suddenly fluttered with a furious motion, as if angry or frightened.

Shocked, Elena yelped aloud. As her heart calmed, she realized… the jar contained a bat, a small, frightened, live bat. The terrified little creature began squeaking frantically and beat its wings.

“Hey, hey, little guy,” the startled young woman murmured. “Here, hold on, okay?”

Working quickly, Elena moved to the window. The glass pane slid upward with some straining. Elena furiously unscrewed the lid of the jar, then held the glass vessel out to the window.

The bat scrambled for freedom. In less than a second, it had hopped from the jar and tore into the night sky. Elena briefly saw its dark silhouette as it shot into the cover of the forest.

And then, as if a veil was lifted, Elena’s own mind was freed. The hypnosis smothering her independent will evaporated, and suddenly Elena was thinking for herself once more. She remembered everything!

*** *** *** ***

In the bedroom, Rusu stirred. Had he heard… a bat squeaking? No, that couldn’t be…

The male witch rolled over, and realized he was alone. Where was Elena?

“Slave?” Rusu called out, annoyed.

No answer.

*** *** *** ***

In the other room, Elena tensed. Rusu was awake! In moments, he would be upon her. It was too late to dash down the stairs.

Thinking quickly, the young woman shut the supply room’s door. Thankfully, the old hinges did not creak.

Now Elena looked about the room. Could she escape out the window? She hurried back to the open pane and craned her neck outside.

No. The bedroom was over six meters above the ground, and there was a hard, cobblestone walkway beneath her. She’d break both legs in the jump.

Out in the hallway, Elena could hear Rusu emerge from the bedroom. The old floorboards creaked mightily under his slight weight. The male witch was moving away from her, towards the east wing of the house.

Cursing her rotten luck, Elena turned to the table of witchcraft supplies. She grabbed one of the **_FIREBALL_** jars. It was the only feasible weapon she saw.

Cradling the glass vessel, Elena made a quick plan: She’d wait for a little, then make a dash for the stairs. If Rusu spotted her, she’d torch him.

*** *** *** ***

Rusu cursed himself for not having a flashlight. Darkness was thick all around him. The house did not yet have electricity, and until now, this had not been a problem. Still, it was possible that Elena was free from his mental control and was attempting escape. But he hadn’t heard anyone descend the staircase. She was nearby.

The male witch shivered, slightly. He was still in the nude.

Ignoring the chill, Rusu raised the vampire’s eyeball within its little glass case. He held it before him like a lantern, and it took discipline not to look at the hypnotic little orb. How the old witch Augula had never stared into the eyeball and become entranced herself, he couldn’t say. Augula must have had a great strength of will.

But not enough luck. The instant Elena had mentioned a vampire’s eyeball, Rusu knew he had to possess the evil orb. What red-blooded man wouldn’t want the power to entrance and enslave any woman he desired? The moment Elena had parted ways, Rusu had tracked down Augula, gleefully murdering her with his bare hands. Her wagon was now parked behind the manor house; once he’d recaptured Elena and permanently brainwashed her, Rusu planned to inventory all of Augula’s magical treasures.

But first things first. Because she’d already been mesmerized by the eye, Elena’s resistance would be minimal. With one glance, she’d be back in his power. All Rusu had to do was thrust the eye back into her face.

“Where are you, slave?” he growled.

*** *** *** ***

Not three meters away, Elena pressed her ear to the door, held her breath, and listened. Her master was moving away, but slowly. He was calling out softly.

“Slave, you can’t hide forever!” he warned. “I’ll find you.”

Elena felt her spirits sink. Rusu would have the vampire’s eye on him. She had little doubt that she could be rehypnotized in a glance.

 _Shit_ , she thought, growing anxious. Rusu knew the house very well. Sooner or later, he’d turn around, head for his supply room, and Elena would be discovered.

Well, she had a surprise for him. Elena gripped her **_FIREBALL_** jar. When her master opened the door, she’d…

Wait. Elena’s heart skipped in a horrible realization.

The manor house was built from ancient, dried timbers. It was essentially made out of kindling! Any flame, dropped anywhere, would rapidly turn the whole building into an inferno. If Elena threw the fireball, she’d be rapidly cooked herself.

 _Fuck!_ the young woman thought in despair.

*** *** *** ***

Halfway down the hallway, Rusu cursed himself for his stupidity. Was he a fool? Had he forgotten the post-hypnotic suggestions he’d embedded inside Elena’s fertile mind? He could call her, and she would willingly show herself. It was silly to hunt in the dark.

“I know you’re there, slave,” he called out. “ _Rose petal_. You want to step forward to see me. Just a quick glance. _Rose petal_. You can’t resist, slave. Step out and let me become your master again!”

*** *** *** ***

As the words _rose petal_ fell upon her ears, Elena felt a sudden urge to obey her master. _I must obey_ , a dull voice within her mind said. _Obedience make me-_

Alarmed, the young woman stood a step back and squeezed her eyes shut. _No!_ she thought with determination. _I’m not a slave! I have to stay free!_

Out in the corridor, Rusu spoke another _rose petal_. And Elena’s desire to surrender grew stronger. Her master’s sweet voice was calling to her… Already, on its own, her hand was reaching for the doorknob. 

_Stop it!_ the young woman thought in a panic. She backed away, violently shaking her head.

*** *** *** ***

In the corridor, Rusu paused. Had he heard the creak of floorboards?

The male witch peered over his shoulder. Yes! There was someone in his supply room!

“Slave!” Rusu called out with a grin. “I know where you are! _Rose petal_. Come on out, and become my toy once again!”

Confidently, he turned and advanced toward the supply room.

*** *** *** ***

Elena could hear the approaching footfalls. She was within seconds from becoming recaptured.

Raw panic seized her. What could she do?

Her keen mind seized upon only one possibility. If she turned into her werewolf form, there was a good chance she could surprise Rusu and rip him to shreds, right? In the tight confines of the house, he’d be hard-pressed to shove the vampire eye before her.

It was her only hope.

With a swiftness she didn’t know she possessed, Elena sprang to the table and grabbed the thin little bottle labeled **_BYANTHAN_**. And she hurled it against the floor.

The vial shattered, and a great puff of misty white smoke expanded in every direction. The smell was truly nauseating, but Elena forced herself to gulp down a lungful. She gagged and coughed violently.

Out in the corridor, she heard a whump as something heavy struck the wall. There was a surprised yell, and then the bedroom door flew open.

Rusu teetered in the doorframe, his eyes furious and wild. The case containing the vampire eye had tumbled from his fingers, and now lay smashed on the floorboards. The nude young man trembled, one hand extended toward Elena.

And then, Rusu screamed in rage. The shout was not a human’s cry, but something deeper and primal. His eyes bulged.

Before Elena’s horrified eyes, Rusu’s teeth grew jagged and pointed. His skin appeared to boil as his arms and legs became longer. The man screamed again, and his spine twisted; he was thrown onto the floor as he spasmed and convulsed.

Thin, red hair was growing rapidly from all corners of Rusu’s body. As he kicked, his finger and toenails grew, sharpening themselves into horrid, black claws. Both his mouth and nose were extending forward as his jaws snapped angrily. The man’s eyes had gained a dark, burning red hue.

“Oh, fuck!” swore Elena, realizing the truth. **_She’d never been the werewolf!_**

As the man-thing rolled about on the floor, twisting and howling in pain, Elena grabbed a **_FIREBALL_** jar. Then, running as fast as she dared, she leapt out into the corridor and down the staircase.

*** *** *** ***

Rusu flipped about on the floor, the agony wracking his body. Every transformation was very painful, but this one was **_especially_** excruciating. He screamed again.

After making his fortune and retiring young, Rusu had decided to explore his love of witchcraft. And on his very first experimentation with magic, he’d arrogantly tinkered with the Forbidden Knowledge, and brought the Werewolf Curse upon himself. When the moon became full and bright, he’d become the Mindless Beast, and commit terrible atrocities.

But through witchcraft, Rusu had learned how to control his werewolf transformations, and retain his human mind even within his wolf body. It was easy, really: One simply had to take the tiniest dose of byanthan. Then he could change at will. The power Rusu felt as a wolf was tremendous, indeed. And liberating! While changed, he felt like a god. It amused him to slaughter a few terrified Srabov locals, like Bela Mureșanu the butcher. How Rusu loved toying with his victims, making them scream in agony before they died!

But then, Rusu had clapped eyes on the beautiful Elena Păcuraru, and something shifted within him. He wanted more than blood; he wanted sex. Pure, raw sex, with a woman so breathtaking and luscious, all other men would envy him.

Originally, he’d sought to win Elena’s trust by stringing her along in her werewolf investigation. Murdering Chief Moraru was intended to nudge her trust. Rusu had originally planned on using an enslaving love potion on Elena, once he’d fully worked out the recipe. But then, Elena had mentioned the vampire eye, and Rusu saw a shortcut to his goal. He’d slaughtered Augula, claimed the eye for himself, and then – just to be cruel – he’d hypnotized Elena with the eye when she was caught unawares back in Srabov.

The setup had been perfect. Just yesterday, after an exhausted Elena had returned to the Srabov police station, Rusu had been there, waiting for her. She was quickly mesmerized and enslaved by the eye.

“ _When you awaken,_ ” Rusu had told the hypnotized woman, “ _you will willingly come with me back to my manor house. You will strip out of all your clothes, and enter my cage. And when you wake up, you will remember nothing. You will be easily convinced that you are the werewolf, my dear, and you will be eager to let me help you. Further – every time you hear me say the words_ Rose Petal _, you have an urge to obey me, even in your waking state._ ”

True, Rusu could have taken the hypnotized Elena into his bed the moment she was entranced. But he had wanted her to give herself willingly to the hypnotism. That, he had read, would ensure that she could never escape his mental control. If she believed she was the werewolf, Rusu believed, Elena would gladly agree to be mesmerized.

Only Elena had somehow smelled the trap. Sure, she’d fallen under Rusu’s spell nonetheless… but obviously his control over her had not been absolute.

Now, the little bitch had loosed Rusu’s last reserves of Byanthan, forcing him to transform! He seethed. Well, there were other hot women he could enslave. Elena’s blood on his fangs would taste…

Wait! As Rusu writhed in the agony of his transformation, he felt a ripple of raw, unrestrained fury sweep over him. This was not a man’s anger, but the seething, animalistic instinctive rage of… the Beast! The Creature!

In horror, Rusu realized he was losing focus. His human thoughts were tearing apart, consumed by a mindless ferocity.

 ** _No!_** the transforming man thought frantically. **_No, I must stay… stay a… a…_** In desperation, he flailed about.

 ** _Fuck that fucking bitch!_** he thought wretchedly. **_Fuck her, when I catch her, I’ll… rip… tear…! Destroy…! Kill… KILL, KILL!!!_**

That was it. The last of his human thoughts disintegrated. He was now The Beast.

Angrily, the Creature scrambled onto its four paws, taking no notice of the damage its claws were wrecking upon the house’s old timbers. Anger and hunger burned deep within its soulless core. **_KILL! TEAR! FEAST!_** The Beast snarled aloud.

Wait… Keen senses were sounding an alert. The Beast paused. There was the scent of prey in the air! Footfalls, below, running away! A human!

**_KILL! DEATH! DESTROY!_ **

With an unquenchable fury, the Beast sprang forward. It tore down the stairs, charging at full speed.

*** *** *** ***

Elena was racing as fast as she could sprint, cradling the fire-jar in her arms. She zipped through the house’s living room. There was a terrible crashing behind her, old timbers being torn up by something heavy and powerful. She was being pursued. She dared not look back.

The front door was just before her… but then what?

With despair, Elena realized: She couldn’t outrun the werewolf on foot! Not across the manor house’s wide grounds! In the open, the beast would run her down within seconds. Certainly not to freedom.

She had only one chance. Screwing together all the courage she had, Elena skidded to a stop, just before the front door… then turned around.

*** *** *** ***

**_KILL! BLOOD! MURDER!_ **

The Beast spotted the prey. It was small and skinny, but this mattered not. Prey was prey. It charged, bellowing a death-cry.

**_KILL!!!_ **

*** *** *** ***

Elena screamed, but hurled the jar as hard as she could. The glass vessel whipped through the air, impacting on the lean chest of the red werewolf.

The glass exploded, throwing flames in directions. Instantly, the werewolf caught fire, and it screeched in misery and agony. The monster lost all control, and began thrashing about.

The beast hoped to escape the horrible, consuming blaze. But its dumb instincts didn’t understand what the fire was, and all the creature managed to do was spread the flames across the old house. Soon, the walls were alight.

Elena wasted no time. She spun on her heels, and tore out the front door.

It wasn’t until she was a good hundred meters from the house and down Ȋnfricoşăror Hill that the young woman gave herself permission to stop and look back. Trembling, sweaty, and heaving for breath, Elena turned to look up at the old mansion.

The entire house was now ablaze; it had gone up fast. Even now, the flames were nearly seven meters tall, stretching high into the night sky. Within minutes, the entire structure would collapse and smolder.

And within the house? Elena winced as she heard an inhuman yowling, tortured and frantic, louder than the most violent clap of thunder. The screams ripped apart the night sky… and then they were gone.

*** *** *** ***


End file.
